Selfie Portrait (Side 1)

by Brennan Leeds

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i recorded these all on my phone in whatever place the idea for the song came. (save Fourier Transform, where i did the same with an Akai four track) You'll hear me whip out ideas in a variety of places, from a giant abandoned concrete silo in the middle of a Michigan forest, to St. Celia's Chapel just off Mass. Ave in Boston. Sorry the lyrics are so indiscernible, you can find 'em in the description for each tune if you want! :) Giant thanks to Kai Felsman aka WESSANDERS for the brilliant remix, his stuff is always so, and as well, he constructed it in a very similar sprint of impulse.


released March 12, 2015



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Brennan Leeds Conway, Arkansas

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Track Name: Mr. Mojojojo
Mr. Mojo's on the horizon
surfing the spin of the stars
deceived at first by their magnetic gravitude

for at closer observation
they seemed immensely stellar
ever unswallowed by the novas
of a friend they call
a neighbor
of a friend on the run

though their core's a warm place
their surface screams fire
destined to choke on the ash as it clogs every hole
and seeps like a sweat
Track Name: Lipspeak
my baby girl and i
eat chinese food in the backseat
her kinda mood just gets me high
got me dreamin' of burt's bees

magic me with your lip speak
i just wanna feel the heat
Track Name: Concrete Wasteland
Brandt - " you and Katie didn't go down here?"
me - "no"

don't die
Track Name: St. Cecelia's Chapel
the westward wing of a flight to my dreams sits there existing as a blink in the darkness an orange ever branching ant hill laboring to paint the rotten remains of rubble and ash that are real only as subatomic energy in the tunnels of my mind it's hard to fuck the past when you don't obtain ample passion and the ravines are collapsing my memories there then they're gone in a flash of anxiety and want I hear the drum beating like lightning bolts through my temples wham wham wham begging for the fertilisational blossom of bosom evolving changing into a helium balloon that is attached to my wrist eventually the goal is to float carried by the wisdom of experience but the stepping stones are infinite and a ripple will never cease to wave

sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if there wasn't a satellite floating on my ceiling the corners of my warehouse are old and rustic and beautiful and cobwebbed and if you follow where the two brick walls meet you can read and re-read the charcoaled passings of my predecessors and if you separate the duo a blinding light is the only conceivable bit of knowledge that will bleed in escape across the tile floor and to truly live is to dive in but advancements permit impatient vices and short-lived intelligence that is only retained for a fraction of a millimeter on my cases vertex what happened to gradual progression what happened to natural intake of the minds unknown?
Track Name: Fourier Transform
who am I
a kid stuck in his mind?
a copper bear perched in pine
who hears only a blade
or there
tremble as a tremor
on the skim skin of the grass organism,
a vague grim expression
shadowed by reflections
of spotlight solar flares
from beneath?

or maybe I'm the horse that faces him
win-kneed and raised to challenge
hoofhooked in solid rock
a bronze spine for teeth
bared broken but free
vulnerable and happy